Oxytocin and Vasopressin Induced Confessions
by Josey Rebecca Ruthe
Summary: Sherlock identifies certain hormones inspiring his emotions.


Sherlock was staring at John from across the room. Had it been anyone but John, he or she would have probably been a bit put off at the staring, but it was John and John was very used to Sherlock staring at him. Only this wasn't Sherlock's usual stare. He wasn't just looking at John, making simple deductions like he usually did. The look on Sherlock's face was similar to the confusion when he didn't understand social norms or when he didn't know why people were reacting the way they were. It took John a few minutes to realize the difference, but when he did, he tilted his head slightly, considering Sherlock.

"Something the matter?" John asked, finally. Sherlock didn't answer. He probably didn't even hear John. It wasn't unusual for Sherlock to ignore him, so John took a final sip of his tea before resolving to go get more. As he got up, Sherlock followed him into the kitchen, still staring but saying nothing.

"I'll make you some tea, then." No response.

"You're obviously not deducing much. What are you thinking?" No response.

"Here. Drink this." John shoved the tea at Sherlock and sat down at the table laden with a microscope and what John could only assume were skin samples. Sherlock stopped staring at John long enough to realise he now had a cup of tea and sat down across the table.

"John, I was thinking-"

"That much was obvious," John said sarcastically, cutting Sherlock off mid sentence. Sherlock glared.

"Let me finish. I was thinking about the hormones involved with love."

"Why were you doing that?"

"When certain chemicals come in contact with the brain's receivers, they inspire certain feelings and reactions." John raised his eyebrows. As a doctor, he was quite well aware of how hormones worked. "A well organized mind can ignore the feelings and impulses. However, certain reactions to dopamine, serotonin, and adrenaline at first, then, more recently, oxytocin and vasopressin have indicated a certain attraction more pressing than the usual..."

"Are you saying you have a crush on someone? Who?" John was fairly amused. He honestly couldn't imagine Sherlock expressing any feelings towards anyone. "Isn't oxytocin the hormone that makes you want to cuddle with people?" He started chuckling, ignoring Sherlock's glares.

"John, I'm trying to speak." John quieted his chuckles long enough to take a long sip of tea. He took a breath and wiped the smile from his face.

"Right. Serious. Alright. Who is it?"

"I-" Sherlock looked at the table, suddenly uncertain. "It's... I..."  
"You don't have to tell me, you know. You should go for it though. You're not exactly normal but you don't have to be completely alone. Not that you're alone. You have got me. But if you decided to... Well. I guess I just never imagined that you'd be interested in someone." John got up. "If you... I'll be in my room." Excusing himself, John ran up to his room and started thinking, tripping slightly on the way, unaware of the limp that was starting to come back.

_Sherlock. With a woman. Or a man. It's all okay. Kissing. Holding hands. Cuddling? He shook his head. I thought he'd be here all the time. I mean, I shouldn't be that bothered by it. I had hoped, at one point, myself that I would find someone. But I gave that up. It's easier just to work with Sherlock and not worry about balancing a romantic life too. I just thought he'd be here all the time, too. I shouldn't have. It's not like he's mine or something. I-_

There was a sharp rapping on John's door.

"What Sherlock?" Sherlock pushed the door open.

"I wasn't going to tell you but you seem to not be able to handle the idea of me being with someone else."

"Why would you say-"

"Limp, lack of the ability to complete sentences, running off because you don't know what to say. John, it's you." Sherlock smiled, his deep voice sounded so stable compared to the maelstrom of emotions John was experiencing.

Me.

"Oxytocin and Vasopressin are a strong combination." He sat down on the bed next to John, close enough that John could feel the heat radiating off of Sherlock. John gasped lightly. He didn't really know how to process the information and took a moment to appreciate that, had he had something much stronger to drink besides tea, he would probably be a lot more comfortable. Or at least, he would be able to say what he was thinking and easily admit that he was thinking exactly what he was thinking. Sherlock wouldn't look at him anymore. He looked a lot more relaxed, but at the same time, not as confident.

"I thought it was best to tell you because, in the past, I've ignored my emotions but at the moment I'm considering indulging... If you choose."

John nodded. He wasn't sure how to process the information. He felt so... There weren't words for his feelings. He picked out a few of the emotions he could identify. Confusion. Surprise. Fear. Nervousness. Then there was something else. It felt an awful lot like... Like he returned the feeling.

_Sherlock Holmes likes... Me. Sherlock Holmes likes me. I like Sherlock? I like Sherlock Holmes. Yes. Yes, I like Sherlock Holmes. I think... I think I could come to terms with that._

Sherlock started to get up.

"No, wait." Sherlock. I would like that." Sherlock''s lips twitched into a small smile.

"Yes." Instead of getting up, Sherlock leaned into John who snaked his arm around Sherlock's waist and leaned back into him. Finally, John pressed his lips into Sherlock's. In response, Sherlock jumped back a bit, not realizing that John was about to do that, but then pressing back, happy to indulge. Sherlock tasted like tea and biscuits and something else that was so... Sherlockian. Smiling against his lips, John ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair and pulled back a bit.

"Is this okay?" Sherlock didn't answer but kissed John again and for a moment, life at 221B was very, very simple.


End file.
